Growing up, I watched what can only be called an excessive amount of television. I wasn’t a critical viewer by any means, though there were certain shows I recognized as distinct. While any number of kid’s shows are quite apparently written with their primary audience in mind, there’s that special neighborhood of children’s programming that bridges the gap between kids and adults. Growing up it was shows like Rocco’s Modern Life and Ren and Stimpy, and perhaps the paramount example of walking that tightrope, Pee-Wee’s Playhouse. Though the bizarre and shamefully over dramatized Paul Reubens porno theater incident relegated the man and his show to some sleazy back alley of my mind for a few years, adulthood has shed a little more light on the reality and I can thankfully appreciate Pee-Wee again. The real life cartoon character. The technicolor man child. The adult who somehow established precisely the life and lifestyle I envisioned for myself as a seven-year-old sugar fiend.